Velocity
by Mindfreak Iero
Summary: One minute, you could be nothing more than dirt on the bottom of someone's shoe, then the next minute you're thrown into their life and about to risk everything for them, and they're going with you. Frerard. My Chemical Romance.
1. Chapter 1

**Rating**: NC-17 for explicit sex, harsh language and alcohol/drug abuse.  
**Paring**: Frank/Gerard of My Chemical Romance.  
**Disclaimer**: This is fiction, it never happened and it's not going to. I don't know/own My Chemical Romance or any other characters used in this plot.

* * *

I chewed my lip ring with high levels of aggravation. The tapping of his pencil was ticking loudly around my inner skull, slowly bringing me to the point of insanity. Suddenly, the intense tapping stopped. I relaxed and released the intense grip I was holding on the metal piercing my lip.

I glanced around the classroom. The high-pitched voices of preppy sluts chatting merrily to their clones screeched through my ear drums and sent chills down my spine like nails on a chalkboard.

I grinded my teeth as another boy started to drag the end of his worksheet down the metal coil of his notebook, creating another annoyance to add to the list.

The teacher was a mindless bore in front of the classroom. His monotone voice attempting to drown out the constant annoying clicks of gel pens as girls chewed on the ends of them. I continued to grind my teeth together, crunching enamel to enamel as the clicks of the pens started to get under my skin.

My brain began to focus on every small annoyance at the same time. Soon enough, it all became overwhelming and I felt suffocated by all the antics of the breathing bodies stuffed into the same room.

I finally snapped when someone started to squeak the rubber of the bottoms of their shoes against the wet school tiling.

I grabbed my '_Rebok_' backpack from the back of the red plastic chair and stuffed my World Geography books inside. I stood upright and exited the classroom without another word from anymore. The teacher didn't even seem to notice, he just continued ranting about rice farms in China.

"Mr. Iero, you shouldn't be wandering the–"

"_Fuck off!_" I snarled, not caring that it was my **principle** who had been speaking to me, and not caring that I was probably going to be faced with a detention as soon as I dared darken the doorway of the place again.

I slammed both of my hands against the horizontal metal bar which opened the school's doors and burst out into the hot afternoon of June in Jersey.

I walked the entire hour and a half through traffic lights and city scenes until I landed within the upperclass Jersey neighbourhood where I was forced to call home.

I put up the hood on my black and gray striped hoody as I walked through the pastel pink door which gruesomely matched the similar colour of the side panelling.

"Why are you home so early, Frank?"

I was greeted with the bitter-sweet voice of Mrs. Way, more recently known as my foster-care guardian.

"Fucking highschool," I had hissed. "I don't need it."

"Watch your language, darling," she reminded me. She was so nice that it was fucking sickly.

I heard the thump of footsteps coming down over the stairs. I glanced towards the hardwood stairway with the perfect white trailing only to come face to face with Satan, aka, Mrs. Way's eldest.

"Oh, what a rebel, he's skipping school, now," he remarked, _very_ sarcastically.

I felt like launching into him and ploughing his brains out. Just the looks of him contrasting with the perfect 'everything in its' place' house made me want to clobber the boy.

His hair was shoulder length and as black as the night, aside from the hideous way he had died his roots a bright green. It was so obvious that the black was fake, his hair looked like fucking Barbie's hair; plastic. He always wore his jeans alarmingly tight, yet his zip-up hoodys were always slightly baggy on his figure. His eyes were always slick with black eyeliner and red eye shadow. He was like a wanna-be scene kid, only he could actually pull it off sometimes.

"Go paint a fucking picture," I had snapped at him, attacking his strongest aspect. He was an artist, you couldn't deny it. He had talent, and I envied him for it.

"Go suck some more dick," he retorted very quickly. I rolled my eyes at his lame attempt at trying to make me feel out of place because of my sexual preference.

"Go suck your own dick, god knows that no one else will."

"Boys! Enough of that!" Mrs. Way interrupted us.

I scoffed under my breath, watching out of the corner of my eye as Gerard gave me a mocking expression then piled himself in the armchair the farthest away from me.

"Frank, darling, you have to stop leaving school like this, if you keep it up, you're going to get transferred again." I ignored her pity pleas about me staying in school.

"Mhm," I mumbled, not really paying attention, "I wasn't feeling well, and everyone was annoying me," I said to her.

"That still doesn't mean that you can leave the place any time you want without any excuses," she said, smiley sweetly. I just nodded my head at her and concerned myself with my mp3 player. She went on with whatever she had been doing before I had barged in unannounced.

"You're going to be transferred out of here just as quick as you were transferred out of the last home." I was just about to pop one of the ear phones in my ear when Gerard spoke up. I glanced up at him and snarled under my breath, putting my music on 'pause' for a moment.

"You'd like that, wouldn't you?" I sneered at him.

"I can't say that I'd miss you."

I rolled my eyes at his response before getting up off the couch to go to the bathroom. I reached the bottom of the staircase then turned back to face him. "No," I started, "you wouldn't." Gerard looked over at me. "But your _girlfriend_ would."

"You little shit," Gerard snarled, bounding up off the couch as I scrambled up over the stairs, laughing my ass off the entire way.


	2. Chapter 2

I locked myself in my room until Gerard had gone out for a few hours. Only then did I wander down over the stairs then plank myself in the living room, waiting for Mrs. Way to prepare supper. I was fucking starved.

"I wish you and Gerard would get along." I looked up to see that she was walking in through the kitchen with one of those TV trays that you can set up when you want to eat in the living room. She set it up in front of me while I just stared at her. I had been slouched down in the arm chair with one leg cocked up and the other hanging over the arm of the couch. Personally, I thought it was the perfect position to get some ass in. I popped the ear phones from my MP3 player out of my ears. I used to keep them in all the time, even though the device was rarely ever on.

"I mean," she spoke up again, "I'm hoping you're going to be here for a long time."

"I'll try," I lied.

She gave me another one of her sickly smiles before retreating back into the kitchen to get my meal. She came out shortly after with a plate piled with macaroni and cheese. I stared at it for a while before noticing that her bony hand was stuck in front of my face holding out a fork. I took the fork with a quick 'thank you' then dug into the much needed food.

While I was eating, she started to set up another TV tray, then brought out another plate of pasta. I watched, confused, as she set out a fork and a knife. She left the living room again then back with two tall glasses of milk. She handed one to me then laid the other on the coffee table before walking to the end of the staircase.

"Mikey, darling," she called out, "Supper is ready." I should have known.

Shortly after her call, Mikey came pattering down over the stairs, then shyly took a seat on the couch next to me where his supper had been set out. We both ate in silence while watching some weird talk show that was on mute on the television. It made no sense, in theory, but the television was always on mute, so I never questioned it.

Mikey and I got along, we just didn't talk much, because well, we didn't have anything to talk about. It wasn't like there was a huge age difference, it was only two years. He was fifteen, I was seventeen, but when you're our age, that makes a world of difference.

After eating, I stored away in my room again. Even though I had been with the Ways for over two months, I still felt out of place and nothing but a burden. I tried to stay out of the way for the most part. I sighed, thinking of when I lived with my family. I laughed at the thought though, I never really liked them anyway.

I got up from my bed and walked over to my dresser. I opened up my underwear drawer and pulled out a pack of cigarettes. The packet never contained cigarettes, though, instead, it consisted of seven pre-rolled joints and a black 'baby' lighter, you know, those miniature ones that you can stash away anywhere.

I flicked one of the paper-rolled joints out and placed the lighter in the palm of my hand. I stashed the packet back in the drawer then ventured to lock my bedroom door. I twisted the knob a few times to ensure that it actually was locked, then I went straight for my bedroom window. I was lucky that my bedroom was on the back of the house, and that the back of our house was in fact facing towards the woods and barren land where no one would see me.

My window was pretty low, yet it wasn't one of those tall windows. The house had a weird construction, it was like nothing was how everyone else would have their house. I liked it.

Opening the window and leaning out slightly, I lit up the end of the joint. I took a few quick puffs then took a long draw, keeping all the weed smoke within my lungs temporarily before exhaling the grass-tasting fumes. I finished the toke just like it was a cigarette then doubted it on the windowsill. I left my bedroom then went down the hall and into the bathroom, wrapping up the end of the joint with tissue then flushing it down the toilet.

When I finally got back into my bedroom, my high was starting to dull my brain. I laid flat on my back on the bed and plucked the earphones back in my ears and turned my music up as loud as it could go. I relaxed and let my heartbeat take on the insane rythem of the drums as the guitars numbed my blood stream.

I must have fallen asleep, because the next thing I knew it was completely dark in my room and the batteries were dead on my MP3 player. My high had been nearly gone, it was left as nothing but a dull throb in the back of my head, and as irritating as a migraine. My mouth was dry and I was annoyingly hungry.

I stretched to make my muscles somewhat useful and not as tight before I got up and slouched out of my room. I slumped down over the stairs and looked around, the grandfather clock read nine thirteen. Mr. Way was usually at home by that time, and watching the news. That was pretty much the only time that the television wasn't on mute with the subtitles, but that night, he wasn't there. I found that really strange, because since they were in the employment of foster-care, they couldn't just leave the house unattended at any time, or they could lose their job.

It was then that I had remembered that Gerard turned 18 not too long ago, making him a legal adult along with a legal 'baby-sitter'.

I wandered into the kitchen, my mind set on a big bag of chips, some chocolate and a tall glass of Pepsi. Gerard was sitting at the kitchen table painting some kind of picture when I entered. If I hadn't been coming down from a high with a serious case of the munchies, the strong repulsing smell of the paints would have turned my stomach.

I proceeded to ignore him then went on my merry way towards the junk cupboard. After retrieving what I desired, Gerard decided to be an asshole, "Stoned again, I see." I rolled my eyes at his comment, "I can see you're packing on the weight from the after effects."

I laid my food down on the table and glared at him. An idea hit my mind, "What are you painting?" I asked him, acting nice for once in my life.

"Something for an art contest," he replied, giving me a curious look.

I picked up my glass of drink and dumped it over the canvas that had been flat on the table. Gerard jumped up and scooted back as the sticky liquid mixed with the paint flooded towards him then spilled onto the tiled floor.

"You fucking asshole!" he shouted at me, "What the fuck did you do that for?"

"I'm stoned and fat, remember?" I asked him, putting the glass on the counter and getting more Pepsi, "It's what I do."

I grabbed my bar and bag of chips and started off towards the living room, "Good luck with the art contest," I said before vanishing out into the next room.


	3. Chapter 3

"So," I started, chasing Mikey up over the stairs so I could avoid the rage that Gerard would soon release, "Your parents are gone for the weekend?" I asked.

"Yep," Mikey replied, stepping aside and letting me walk into his room.

"All weekend?" I asked, glancing around his room. One would think that he had the dork room, you know, aeroplane models, insanely difficult puzzles, geeky patterned curtains, you get the point. Instead, it was just the normal teenaged boy's room. He had posters of bands, a poster of a chick sporting a thong and a wet, white bikini top, and he had action figures and a video game console. It was all pretty normal.

"All weekend," he confirmed for me, sitting down in his black chair at the computer. He spun around and looked at me, "Why?"

"I was just wondering," I told him, trying to seek out some porn magazines from his stack of comic books.

"I hope you and Gerard don't kill each other in the time being," Mikey said with a light laugh before turning to turn on his computer.

"Don't worry," I said, "Your brother will be fine."

Mikey laughed whole heartedly then crossed his legs and leaned back in the reclining computer chair. He looked as though he was going to say something to me, but he never had the chance, seeing as Big Bad Gerard burst through the door and stood there like an iron man, glaring the both of us down.

"What's wrong?" Mikey asked him, Gerard just laughed through his nose.

"So, I'm expecting you guys to stay downstairs tonight," Gerard commanded.

"Excuse me? I'll go wherever I damn well please," I snapped.

"My girlfriend is coming over," he started, eyeing us both, "And we're having a few drinks." Gerard smirked to himself before continuing, "...If you know what I mean."

"Uhm, Gerard?" Gerard's eyes shot to Mikey at the sound of his voice, "I'm not really comfortable here while you're... With your girlfriend." Mikey looked to the ground shyly while he waited for his brother's response.

"Too bad," Gerard laughed, glancing at me next, "Why not have a jerk-off with fag-a-lot, here?"

He was still talking to her brother, but he was referring to me.

"Fuck off," I snarled, debating with myself on whether or not I should have left the room. Of course, being who I was, I obviously stayed.

Gerard's eyes seemed to glow with a mysterious red flame as they targeted onto mine. He was probably still pissed about the whole painting thing. That, on top of my day to day attitude, was enough to make Satan devour anyone to terminate me. He kept staring at me, possibly thinking that he was getting to me in some weird way. He wasn't though, he was just amusing me by how much he looked like a red version of The Incredible Hulk.

"Make no wonder no body likes you," Gerard hissed.

I had to laugh at his outrageous accusation, "You've got to be fucking kidding me," I started off, "Do you even know me? I'm Frank Iero, every girl on this side of Jersey wants to get in my pants, yet you say no body likes me?" I started to laugh at that, shaking my head at his naiveness.

"Whatever, faggot. The both of you, stay downstairs tonight, or you can sit in your rooms like pathetic losers and listen to my woman's moaning, if you like. It's up to you, really." With that shortcut speech, he turned and pranced out of the room like he was so high and mighty.

"I hope he gets STDs," I said, rather bluntly, which somehow made Mikey laugh.

I left Mikey's room about an hour after Gerard's little appearance. We played some Xbox and chatted over which superheros were better, then we got onto the discussion of alcohol and drugs, and then we chatted about girls we had screwed, or in my case, guys. Though, I must admit, I did screw a handful of girls back at the old foster home. I only did it because I was in denial about liking guys, even though I had fucked quite the few at that point. Mikey, surprisingly, had slept with at least three different chicks. I never would have guessed, to be honest.

I was downstairs watching the television on mute when Gerard had burst in and slumped down in the love seat by himself, looking like he was trying to shit a ton of bricks at the same time.

"What crawled up your ass?" I asked him with a monotone.

"Your dick tried to, but I stopped you just in time." Well, nothing is seriously wrong, apparently.

"Nice one," I said with a sickly layer of sarcasm on top, "But I was leaning more towards your girlfriend's dildo."

Gerard shot me a dirty look, "My girlfriend doesn't need one."

"Oh, like you have a dick to please her," I commented.

"You know what? You're not even worth the oxygen," Gerard snarled at me.

"So, where's your little slut?" I asked, ignoring his last remark.

"Home, where she's staying for the night," he hissed, grinding his teeth together, making that god awful sound that was equivalent to some bitch scratching perfectly manicured nails down over a chalkboard.

"Aw, poor baby," I said, sounding sad for him and even adding a little pout for effect, "She'll ring you up when her batteries die."

"You're such a little fucking pansy, you know that, right?" Gerard said randomly, out of no where.

"And where the fuck did that come from?" I asked, folding my arms over my chest and waiting for his lame explanation for such a statement.

"You make fun of me, yet you're so fucking lonely that every day after school you come home and get stoned and pass out, thinking that no one even notices how god damn pathetic you really are."

"At least I'm not too much of a chicken shit to smoke weed," I snarled.

"I'm not afraid to smoke weed, darling," he hissed, his voice dripping with an icy venom, "In fact, I'm willing to bet I can take more than you."

"More weed?" I asked him with a little smirk.

"More _anything_."

"You have no fucking idea who you're up against, you know that, right?" I asked him, crossing my legs and starting up a small laugh at his little bet.

"Yes, I believe I do," he responded, "Frank Iero, first class faggot, first class scum."

"Bashing my very open sexuality gets really old really quick, you know," I informed him.

"It really doesn't," he said, getting up, about to leave the living room. He stopped and turned back to face me. I looked over at him and we stared each other down for a few seconds: hazel verses olive.

"Sure," I said, sarcastically, dragging out the 'r'.

"You know what? You obviously don't have any plans tonight, and since I don't anymore," he started to tap his foot while he spoke, "You, me, and probably Mikey, we're drinking off, then we'll see who can handle the most."

I smirked at him as my eyes glinted, "You're on."


	4. Chapter 4

Mikey collapsed on the couch with a mumble of, "Are you sure I should be drinking this?" Gerard didn't respond, though, neither of us did. We were both to concerned in drinking each other down that we were just sitting on opposite couches, chugging back beer and vodka as quick as we could pump it into ourselves.

I took a daring stand and moved onto straight vodka shots, which tasted oddly like rubbing alcohol. After the third or fourth shot it just didn't have a flavour anymore, though, my throat was numb as fuck.

"How much more do you think you can handle, Way?" I asked him with a tipsy-smirk.

"I'm not even close to being done," he replied with a slur.

A mumble came from Mikey's motionless body on the couch. Gerard and I looked over to him at the same time as he started to say something, "First...time, drinking." Gerard looked over at me, I looked over at him. We were slightly startled, and didn't expect that from Mikey. We assumed that he had at least drank _something_ before.

"Go to bed, Mikey," Gerard pretty much ordered.

Mikey rolled over and gave us both a pretty weak attempt at a 'thumbs up' before moaning all the way up over the stairs.

I smirked over at Gerard, "You guna be like your brother?" I asked him, taking back another shot of the odourless alcohol.

"You wish," he said, taking onto my lead and beginning with the straight shots.

Once the vodka and the beer was gone, we were both pretty tipsy, but not completely loaded. I looked over at Gerard, sat back in the chair then crossed my legs. I stared at him for a while, he was staring right back at me.

"How are you feeling?" I asked him, waiting to hear the slur in his speech.

"Mm, fine." I was right about the slur, and it pleased me, very much so. I continued to stare at him, taking in everything about his fake hair colours and his overly lined eyes. His natural hair colour was starting to grow out a little bit, making the green-died roots move down slightly.

"I bet I can take more pot that you right now," I informed him.

He merely cocked an eyebrow at me, "Oh yeah?" he asked.

"Yeah," I confirmed, "Want some?"

"Obviously," he tried to pronounce, "That's how all this started, remember?"

I laughed stubbly at him. He had no idea who he was up against. I could smoke more weed than a narcotic addict, I wouldn't even get 'greens' from it, either.

"No," I started off, getting up from the couch, "This started because you were in denial about your girlfriend's dildo." The glare Gerard sent me after I had said that told me that I had to back off, especially while he was under the influence.

"You better watch your mouth," he warned me.

"And you better get your ass up over the stairs to my room so we can roll some grass," I warned straight back to him.

I heard him huff, but I didn't wait for him. I knew he was following my lead as I heard the patter of his bare feet against the hardwood flooring. Once we got to my room, I let him enter first, so I could then close the door behind his drunken body.

He sat down on my bed and glanced around, taking in the images of the guys' bodies from my band posters. "So, do you smoke weed often?" he asked me, out of no where.

I shrugged my shoulders, "I guess you could say that, yeah," I told him. I wasn't going to lie. Back then, I smoked at least a joint a day, sometimes more. He didn't actually give me a set response, he just laid back on the bed, crossed his arms under his head and bent his knees up and spread them apart so that he could see me.

I retrieved the six joints that I had left and brought them over to the bed. I dug out my baby-lighter and tossed it on the bed, right between Gerard's legs. In turn, he shuffled back and sat up, peering down at the paper rolls and the lighter. He looked up at me, "In here?" he asked, sounding pretty astonished.

I shrugged, "Your parents aren't going to be home for a while, they won't smell it."

Gerard wasn't really convinced, "Are you sure?" he asked me, "Because, like, if she does-"

"Stop being such a chicken-shit, man," I snarled at him, "You're not supposed to get the paranoia until _after_ you smoke the weed."

"Dick," he mumbled under his breath.

"Suck me, then," I mumbled right back to him.

Gerard didn't say anything back, because he really didn't have the chance to. I tossed him a joint, and, after lighting up my own, I tossed him the lighter. I took a huge draw and held in within my lungs, releasing the large puff of smoke after a few seconds.

Gerard just stared at me like some four-year-old who just walked in on their parents having sex.

"Please tell me you've smoked weed before," I stated.

"I did, I did," he 'kinda-sorta' slurred, "It's just, dude, you don't care about getting caught? If you get caught..." he trailed off, sitting up straighter, taking the joint from his chest, "If you get caught, you're going to get sent away."

"And, you care...because?" I took another deep inhale of the narcotic.

He shrugged his shoulders, "Fuck it," he hissed, lighting up with me.

"...That's what I thought," I said, under my breath.


	5. Chapter 5

Gerard started laughing as soon as he put out his last joint. He collapsed back on my bed, still laughing his ass off. I took the last few draws from mine at the same time, puffing them in manically and letting them out a few seconds later. After studding out my joint as well, I could feel the lightheadedness of the narcotic start to kick in a bit more.

"I'm so stoned," Gerard had told me, laying out on the bed and spreading his knees out while they were propped up.

"And wasted," I added with a grin. I was feeling very unstable, and standing up was starting to form an incapable task for me. I decided to lay down on my bed with Gerard, as bold as a movement as that was. It didn't phase me at the time, or him, actually, seeing as once I scooted him over he just laughed and gave me some room.

"I have to give you props, Iero," he started off, turning his head to the side so that he could look down at me. "You can sure take it," he laughed. "I didn't think you had it in yah'," he confessed.

I laughed lightly at him. "I didn't think you had it, either, I thought you were all...you know, an 'all talk, no action' kinda' guy."

"Well," he sighed, looking up at the ceiling. "You could say that," he started off again, "but I've had my fair share of substances," he admitted.

"Haha," I laughed, "I can see that."

"You know what? You're all right," he complimented me. "I guess I was too quick to judge you."

"Yeah, you're all right, yourself. I guess I didn't get to know you because of how you treated me," I told him with the brief shrug of my shoulders.

"I must admit, though, you seriously pissed me off with ruining my painting," he told me. He glanced down at me and smirked, though I could tell it was just to lighten the mood, and that he really was upset about the whole thing.

"I'm sorry," I shrugged, "I shouldn't have done it, but you weren't the nicest to me, either."

"I know."

I sighed heavily to break the awkward silence that we later became engulfed in. Gerard stretched out his arm and it hit my shoulder. I waited for him to move it, but he didn't. I stayed perfectly still for a few seconds before turning to gaze up at him.

"I was supposed to be getting laid right now." The way he had said it gave me the feeling that he was dropping hints, and the hand that nudged against my shoulder was doing nothing to tell me otherwise.

"I find it amusing that so many girls want to get in my pants, and I'm gay," I had said for a reply.

"Do they know you're gay?" he asked me, sounding very curious.

"Well, I don't know," I replied. "Why?"

He shrugged. "How did you know that you were gay?" he asked, still looking down at me. He seemed interested in the topic upheld, and I wasn't going to deny him anything that he wanted to know. I was stoned, remember? So was he. The alcohol wasn't affecting us so much since the high of the pot was slightly overpowering, though I still felt a bit tipsy.

"Watching videos of guys fucking got me off a lot quicker than videos of girls." The conversation topic was making me a little hot.

"You jerk off to porn?" he asked me, sounding as if he was trying to convince me that he didn't.

"Oh, and you don't," I laughed. "But, yeah, eventually, I couldn't even get a boner to a girl, it just wasn't pleasurable to me. I'd rather a cock."

Gerard nodded with interest. "Well, what if I said..." he trailed off as a hint of uncertainty arose within his voice. He stopped and moved the hand away from me and over to his chest. He rested both hands so that his fingers lay limp across his crotch.

"What if you said...iwhat?/i" I asked, my face starting to flush to a greater extend aside from the alcohol and weed consumption. My cock was burning with heat, and tingles were jolting my stomach.

I heard the deep inhale of oxygen being sucked into lungs as Gerard prepared himself to blurt out whatever it was he had tried to say previously. "What if I said...that I was..._curious?_"

I smirked to myself so that he wouldn't feel uncomfortable in my presence after just getting used to me. I inched closer towards him. "Curious about...what?" I asked him, knowing that I was pushing his buttons and that I probably shouldn't have been, considering he was obviously pretty vulnerable at that time.

I could almost _feel_ the blush radiating from his embarrassed cheeks as his highly influenced voice started to stammer and shake. "I- uh, well, I–_ahem_." He tried to preoccupy himself with the ceiling, but I sharply elbowed his side. Well, I hadn't mean to nudge him as hard as I did, but I couldn't judge my own movements at the time. "You know," he rambled, "_guys_."

I shifted even closer to him. "Oh?" I asked, sitting up and facing him. I took a large leap of a chance as I slowly began to crawl over his chest, placing my legs at either side of his hips. I steadied myself with my palms on his chest before sitting up, feeling that he was comfortable with my weight. He appeared to be a little comfortable with me in general, too, if we get into the strain his cock was starting to have against his jeans. "What do you want to know?" I asked him, shifting my hips slightly, letting him feel that I liked the direction his mind was taking us.

Gerard let his head droop backwards onto my pillow. I swore I could have felt his hips shifting gently against mine, but not making it too obvious. After a few moments of silence, his shaky hands claimed my hips.

He glanced up at me, his eyes looked to be clouded over with lust, but I knew they were just revealing his state of mind from the drugs.

"What does it _feel_ like, Frank? What does it _feel_ like to be _fucked_ rather than to _fuck_ someone else?"

I leaned up so that our faces were merely millimetres apart. "You _really_ wanna know?" I asked him. He grabbed my hips harder, digging his chewed cuticles into my flesh.

"Yeah, I _really_ wanna know."

I grabbed his shirt then smothered his mouth with mine.


	6. Chapter 6

After nearly ripping the shirt from his chest, I let go and sat up again, wanting to see the reaction his body had after my tongue's intrusion. He was flushed, panting and vulnerable. _Just_ how I liked them.

"What are you waiting for?" Gerard had panted out between harsh breaths. I didn't even know why he was so out of breath, our kiss didn't last all that long, and it wasn't overly violent. It was just nice with a little bit of rough 'round the edges.

I finally decided that I should answer his question rather than leave him there wondering what the fuck I was doing. "Condoms," I stated. "And lube, hang on." I crawled off of his body and off of the bed. I made my way over to my dresser and started shoving things asides before going through the drawers. I heard the bed rustle as Gerard sat up with curiosity.

"You have condoms?" he asked me. By the sound of his voiced, the fact that I had condoms and lube in my room was somewhat of a surprise to him.

I glanced over my shoulder and laughed at him. "What do you take me for?" I asked him, though it sounded harsher than I had meant it to. "Of course I have condoms, I don't want some fucked up disease cause I needed to get off." Alright, I admit, that did make me sound slightly like a slut.

"I don't have anything," he told me. I stopped and I wanted to laugh.

"With your girlfriend?" I asked him. He looked puzzled so I decided to stop talking.

"Wha–"

"–_Nevermind_," I hushed him, coming across a box of Lifestyles condoms and the same brand lube. I checked the label then shook the bottle a bit. The lube glomped from the bottom of the tube to the top multiple times, creating a trippy noise since I was stoned.

"No, but–"

"–**Nevermind**."

"Okay."

I took one packet from the box then tossed the rest back down into the bottom drawer where I had found them. I cursed to myself when the box landed upside down, spewing the rubbers everywhere, even onto the floor. I wrinkled my nose but didn't bother to pick them up. I threw them over on the bed, but the condom landed on the floor. I sped over and locked my door before going back to the bed.

I bent over and picked up the condom then crawled onto the bottom of the bed on my knees. Gerard was inspecting the lube. "Cherry?" he asked me. I started laughing.

"It smells awesome, and tastes good," I remarked.

"Tastes?" he asked me, sounding sexually illiterate.

"You've never sucked a guy off with lube on his dick before?"

"I've never sucked anyone's dick before," he hissed, defending his 'straight' sexuality. I smirked at his response.

"Well, Gerard, tonight's your lucky night."

"What do you mean by that?" he questioned, laying the lube bottle down next to him and sitting up straight. He attempted to cross his legs, but I knew he was too hard to do it.

I dropped the condom down on the bed then started to undo my belt. Once it was undone, I proceeded to crawl back off of the squeaky mattress then over to stand next to where he was sitting. He looked over at me, curiously, as I pulled my junk out of my pants. "You're guna suck me off for a few minutes," I informed him.

You should have seen the look on his face when the words first spilled from my mouth. He looked shocked and rather concerned. "If you're curious, this, along with me fucking you, with help you find out," I reasoned, really wanting a blow-job, even if it was just a half-assed one from someone completely inexperienced with gay sex.

I could hear the lump in his throat as he gulped. I motioned closer towards him, then held onto my dick like I was handing it to him. He scooted over to the end of the bed then slowly and nervously wrapped his hand around the top of my cock and waited for me to remove my own hand from the base. He shifted his hand down, giving me one slow pump. "Come on," I hissed. "Just put it in your mouth."

He seemed uncertain at first, but I nearly screamed when his shaky mouth wrapped tightly across my pulsing head. I let out a contented sigh so I could urge him on without making him feel cocky about his performance. "Do what you like to feel," I randomly added in, hoping that he liked freaky blow-jobs from his _slut_.

I was pretty much right because I nearly came once his tongue started flicking over my slit then he started fucking biting me gently. He started to take more of my length in. The more of me that vanished within his warm, wet cavern, the harder and thicker I grew. His mouth backed off of me then slid down my length once more, and I enjoyed the heat that was surrounding me and making me throb. As much as I wanted the sensation to last forever, I knew that if I wanted to fuck him, I had to get him to stop. I pulled on his hair, though he took that for encouragement and sucked harder; I could see his cheeks hollow out.

"Shit," I murmured, hoping he wouldn't hear me. My knees went weak. "Okay, stop," I told him, nearly blowing my load as he pulled back (dragging his teeth over my length the entire way, then nipping my slit).

He looked up at me, his eyes glossy and bloodshot around the hazel middle. "Was it okay?" he asked me, his plump little lips moving slowly.

I practically purred the answer to him to express my contentment. "Yeah." He smiled, then, upon hearing my answer. "Did you like it?" I asked him, pushing my jeans down over my hips as my jelly-like legs regained their composure from a neared orgasm.

He stopped for a minute before blushing. "...yeah," he whispered, his cheeks burning pink. I was very happy with his answer, because he loved the taste of cock, then he _had_ to love the feeling of having one buried inside of his heat.

"Do you ever..." I trailed off as I watched Gerard start to strip himself. He glanced up at me and waited for me to continue. "...have an ache inside of you?"

He looked confused. "What do you mean?" he asked, chucking his discarded jeans and underwear on the floor.

"You know," I started off, reaching over to pull the lube and condom towards me. I started to squeeze my head very gently. "That you wanted somewhere inside of you to be brushed against...stroked...or maybe, you even wanted...a tongue inside of you." I grabbed the condom packet and ripped it open with my teeth while I waited for him to dish out a reply.

"We-well," he stuttered. "I, uhm...well, you know..._yeah_."

It still amazed me to know how nervous he was, even after smoking all that pot and drinking all that he did. I threw the empty packet to the floor then placed the opening of the rubber over my tip then smoothed it down. Gerard watched, intrigued. "Oh yeah?" I asked him, grabbing after the bottle of lube next. I looked at it for a second before laying on my bedside table. I glanced back to Gerard. "Which would you like?" I asked.

"...what?" he asked, pretty much reminding me that I had to talk technical, seeing as he was new.

"Which would you like to be prepared with? I can't just drive my cock in you, you'll fucking tear and bleed," I told him.

"What are my choices?"

I smirked. "These," I started, rasing up three fingers and wiggling them like I had 'jazz hands' or 'spirit fingers'. "Or, this," I said, sticking out my tongue and smirking. "Or well, you know...I _could_ use both."

His eyes flickered. "Both," he instructed me.

"If you say so."


	7. Chapter 7

Gerard had whined as I stroked my tongue against his walls. I started to run both of my hands up over his spine as I flicked my tongue even more. I managed to elicit quite the chorus of whimpers and groans from him. More than I had expected, anyway. He sounded like a virgin.

I pulled away from him, not missing the tiny little plea that trailed from his voice box to replace my absence. I leaned over and picked up the tube, squeezing a considerable amount of the gel onto my fingers, then rubbing in the cherry scent. I inhaled. I loved the smell. It took me back to memories of jerking off. You know what they say, scent is the strongest key to memory.

Gerard didn't say anything as I moved closer to him. I gripped his ass with one hand then pulled, spreading him a little bit. "This is going to be uncomfortable and feel weird at first," I warned him, knowing from experience. I started to move one finger inside of him. It wasn't long after that I had felt his muscles clench and his body tense.

"I don't like it," he whimpered, but I wouldn't stop.

"Shh, you will," I cooed while adding a second finger so soon. He whimpered from the pain and discomfort that I had to inflict on him. I felt bad, but in another way, I didn't. I _loved_ the control that I basked over him.

I scissored the offending digits and he squirmed even more. I could almost feel him swallowing the complaints and the roars. It was like he seriously wanted to know the pleasure of being fucked. "Are you ready for another one?" I asked him, even though I never asked before adding the second.

I heard a mumble and a groan fall passed his lips, but I knew they weren't because of feeling good. "Mm, move them around a little more...first," he instructed me. I felt bad, then, because he was really trying to adjust. I still loved the total control I had over every ounce of his mortal being.

I wiggled and penetrated more, trying to get him to adapt to the intrusion. I could tell I wasn't succeeding very well. I finally stretched him out a bit more then added the last finger. Three of them. If he couldn't handle that, he wasn't going to handle me.

His body started to rock and shiver. He would jolt each time I'd push them all in. I could sense that he was in pain, and I could nearly taste the salt of his streaky tears. "It hurts," he whimpered. "I don't want this anymore," he would complain.

"Shh, come on, now, you're doing good. Everyone has pain on their first time, honey."

I froze.

_Honey_.

I couldn't believe that I had called him that.

Gerard didn't seem to notice my little nickname mishap, so for that, I was contented. He grunted with discomfort before finally relaxing his tensed muscles. That helped me a lot, seeing as I could move my digits more freely.

"I'm going to take my fingers out, now," I forewarned him before removing all three very quickly. He gasped at the lack of contact, even though the contact was causing him roaring pain.

I reached down beside me and grabbed the lube. I added more to myself before closing the cap and tossing it back on the bed. I firmly gripped Gerard's side as I held onto myself while edging closer to him. I leaned my body slightly over his before moving up to speak in his ear. "Are you ready?" I asked him. He nodded and his fingers gripped my bed sheets. I scooted forward, glancing down his back to my crotch. I positioned myself then moved forward. I looked back up then examined Gerard's face from the side. I was looking for signs of displeasure.

"Oh," he gasped, tossing his head forward. For a second, I thought he was going to collapse from the tightness. I kept inching into his heat as his walls squeezed me. As much as the throbbing in my dick wanted me to care less about how he felt, I couldn't do it. I had to let him adjust first.

Once I was fully inside of him, I stayed still. I knew that the next bit was going to cause him even more pain than before, but I had to do it. I leaned up, shifted back a little bit, then anchored my hips forward again. "_Christ_!" he snarled. I held onto his hips as he tried to crawl frantically away from me. "Fuckin' _stop!_"

"–no! Just hang on," I panted. The feeling of being inside of someone again was too good for me to stop, even though it nagged inside of me that I was hurting him.

He started to squirm, inflicting more pain onto himself, and pleasure onto me. I grabbed his hips on either side then held my breath. I pulled out so that only my head was tucked inside of him. "Breath and relax," I told him, still refusing to breath much myself. Surprisingly, he did what he was told. I gripped his hips tighter as I pulled him towards me and shifted my hips forward at the same time.

"_Fuck!_"

Then silence. I waited for a response. I wanted to know whether I had tore him open or whether I had managed to target his spot. A whimpered voice answered my silent question. "D-do that a-again," he pleaded.

I grinned.

It didn't take very long before I had him jerking himself off, being forced to support his body weight (and some of mine) with one hand. He was moaning like a whore and I figured if he didn't shut the fuck up, he was going to have his brother having a wet dream in the next room.

I leaned forward and dug my teeth into his back while I further continued to force my hips against him, very needily. "Stop being so loud," I hissed. "You're going to wake your brother up and make him think we're filming pornography in here." He didn't say anything back to me, just leaned down and bit into my pillow, probably drooling all over it.

I sat up and held onto both of his sides. I leaned back and kept forcing myself into him while talking myself out of an orgasm so I could wait for him. I could tell that it wasn't going to be a very long wait, seeing as he was already trembling and threatening to fall beneath me to the bed.

I felt his muscles clench tight around me. I shivered violently as he did the same. I closed my eyes and allowed myself to pant freely while he gasped for air. It was so intense that I felt like I was suffocating. Stoned sex was always the best. When I was sure I was finished filling the rubber, I pulled out of him in the middle of his orgasm so that he wouldn't feel it so sore as he would have if I were to have waited.

I sat back on my heels and watched as he slumped forward then cautiously turned over, then laid in the spot next to where he had been. He had left a mess on my blankets and probably didn't want to lie down in it.

I looked down at myself, then crawled off of the bed. I grabbed a handful of tissues from the box then pulled the sticky condom off of myself. I rubbed myself off then wrapped the rubber in the tissue and disposed of it. I looked over at Gerard then chucked the box of tissues at him. He was laying on his back and his chest was rising and falling as if he had just run the marathon.

I walked over to my dresser and pulled out a pair of pajama pants and ignored the condoms that were still scattered over the bedroom floor. I pulled on the pants then looked back towards Gerard while I stretched and yawned. He was doing his best in cleaning his mess off of the bed. I hate to admit it, but he looked pretty damn adorable there.

I started walking towards him to sit on the bed.

"–hang on, I'm going to go get a pair of pajamas," he told me. He got up off the bed and threw the tissues in the garbage and placed the box back on the bedside table where I had gotten it. He left the room, then came back a few minutes later wearing a pair of boxers and a loose black tee shirt.

"So," I started once he had sat back down on the bed. I crawled up over the bed so I could sit next to him. I reached into the drawer of my bedside dresser and pulled out a box of cigarettes and a lighter. I took one out with my mouth then offered him the pack. He took one then waited while I lit mine up and tossed him the lighter. I took a deep inhale while I waited for him to lit up. Once he did, I exhaled and he took a few puffs. "Are you gay?" I asked him, finished my started statement.

He took a draw then let it blow out through his nose as he glanced over at me. "Well, I don't know if I'm gay," he told me. I felt my heart sink a little, for some reason. "–_but_, I do like guys, for sure..." he trailed off. "Well," he started up again before I had the chance to say anything else.

There was a long pause while we both just stared at each other and smoked. I was waiting for him to continue with what he was saying, but he seemed overly nervous and unsure about himself. "...I don't know about all guys," he whispered, really sounding nervous at that point. "But...I think I like _you_."

He stared up at my ceiling and continued to smoke while I just started at him.

Speechless.


End file.
